Think Pink

What a week it’s been. Last Friday night, I was nervously sipping a cheeky glass of Champagne for Dutch courage and wondering if my book launch would be a success. So many people turned up, it was amazing to see so many friendly faces at the Donjon in the village, many of whom had flown in from London to be there on my special night.

I signed dozens of books, met lots of new faces and gave a speech in which I compared cancer to snowboarding (no, me neither but I seem to remember somehow managing to tenously link the two) and we finally got home a wee bit merry just before 3am. It was such a fantastic high point after a long and emotional journey.

I don’t usually blog about my illness. It feels like it’s firmly in the past and after a year of living through operations, treatment and fragility, it’s not a time I like to dwell on but it has been at the forefront of my mind this week. I have been relentlessly plugging away on Twitter and Facebook (apologies to all those poor people who are bored rigid by photos and mentions of Breathing Out, but it’s a necessary evil in the world of book publishing.)

And it’s working. I’ve had some brilliant reviews, very respectable sales on Amazon and Kindle and lots of press interest, including a magnificent book of the week review in Hello magazine.

This week, I had to have blood tests before seeing my consultant in 10 days’ time for a six monthly check up. It’s a regular thing now but still a time of year that is always a bit tense for obvious reasons and as I ran up to the lab tonight to collect my blood results, I had a few tears, the first in a long time (miraculously, I didn’t shed one during my speech last week although a few of my friends did.)

It was a combination of thinking back over that fabulous evening, recalling the wonderful emails I’ve received this week from people who have read the book and I’m sure a little bit was also due to the joy of being able to run all the way up the evil 1km hill for the first time in ages without stopping (thanks Calvin Harris for keeping me going).

I’ve also heard good news (I’m thinking of you, Kirsti) and not so good news from friends this week and, without wishing to sound corny or clichéd, I feel like seizing the day, enjoying life and not worrying too much about things that are out of my control.

This Sunday, I’m taking part in the Pink Ribbon Walk in Monaco with a bunch of girlfriends, kids and dogs to remember people who haven’t been as lucky as me. It’s going to be a warm sunny day and a fantastic event so please raise a glass on Sunday, wherever you are, and think pink.